


A Child Will Die That Nobody Embraced

by soccermom_max



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Inspired By American Horror Story, M/M, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Tony Stark Friendly, Past Rape/Non-con, Period-Typical Homophobia, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sharing a Bed, Tags to be added, not sexual tho, this is just embarassing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soccermom_max/pseuds/soccermom_max
Summary: Peter has lived here for two years, though if you asked him to recall any of it, he wouldn't be able to. His roommate is Bucky, who has never left this place after being born and raised here, and even he couldn't tell you exactly what goes on in this institution they have both been forced to call home. No matter how bad things get here, though, the thought of leaving never occurs to either of them until a certain doctor flies off the rails and brings both of them down with him.-
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow, Past Harry Osborn/Peter Parker - Relationship, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Kudos: 9





	A Child Will Die That Nobody Embraced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day for Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't what I'd usually post, and I do promise I'll get back to that soon, but here's a little something that's kind of been on my mind for a while now? Idk why but here it is, hope u enjoy and tell me what u think.

Peter awakes with a jolt. He can't remember how he got to where he is, but a part of him knows this is how almost every morning begins. The soft breath from behind him is indication that it is not yet dawn, for the man he shares his bed with always rises with the sun, and there's no dewy light coming from the window he somehow knows is right above his head.

He turns over, throwing an arm over his face. He doesn't know why he awoke, but something feel inherently wrong. He turns over again. There, lying beside him on his back, is his young roommate, James. He, too, has an arm over his face, and if the bruises along his hairline are any indication, today is Thursday and their weekly electrotherapy sessions have been concluded as of the night previous. That makes today his only other electro therapy session.

 _That explains my lapse of memory,_ Peter thinks idly to himself. His stomach growls loudly, and James- Bucky- sniffles in his sleep before rolling over to face Peter. Peter admires him in all his tragic beauty. The bruises that Peter knows he shares along his hairline match up with Bucky's almost exactly, but Peter has yet to find how the young man has obtained the ones along his neck that fade into the collar of his ratty hospice-issued sleeping shirt. He watches a moment longer, realizes he doesn't want to be the first thing Bucky sees when he wakes up, and turns back to face the ceiling.

He stares.

He stares until his body no longer feels his own and the sun, along with the moody young boy next to him, have risen and a guard is slamming their door open for their morning rotations. Peter's first reaction is to glace to Bucky, the boy who has never lived outside the walls of this asylum.

Bucky is looking up wordlessly from his spot on the floor, finger combing his hair, to the door. Peter's gaze reluctantly rises to follow his. Their morning guard is there, his name is Rumlow, and Peter _despises_ him with every ounce of his being. 

Rumlow sneers at the two of them, clutching at the key in his hand. He wordlessly gestures for them to follow him down a long hallway to the common room where his nurse, Margaret 'call-me-Peggy' Carter, smiles at him with red stained lips. He ignores her, turns to look at Bucky instead. "Save a bagel for me." He says. Thursday always means bagels.

"No promises." Bucky grumbles in response. Rumlow's grip on his arm is tight, the skin around his hand paling from it's normal olive to a pale white, and he shoves Bucky past Peter and his nurse in the doorframe towards the cafeteria. 

Peter turns back to Peggy, finally offering her back a small smile of his own. Who is he to decline the few kind people he sees here? She leads the way across the room, through a heavy metal door, and up a flight of stairs to where Dr. Strange's office is. 

The plaque on the door still says Dr. Banner. Peter doesn't think about it. Peggy raps her fist against the door softly and opens it once they hear a muffled 'come in!' Her hand falls to the knob, twists, and the other falls to the small of his back to guide him inside until he is standing before one of the institutions five (used to be six) doctors, Dr. Stephen Strange, who is arguably the mot neutral.

This is Peter's third doctor in his time at the hospital, only two years, and it frightens him to wonder what would happen should he run through the other three as well. Dr. Strange waves Peggy out, a muttered, 'I can handle it from here, thank you, miss Carter,' and suddenly Peter and the Doctor are alone.

"Ah, my boy, tell me, is there any improvement from last weeks visit?" Peter's hands clutch at the hem of the tunic he'd gone to bed in last night. And the night before. Sometimes he forgets to change his clothing or take care of himself in the way he should, and evidently he's not getting any better at this. Regardless, he looks up to make eye contact with thee Doctor before him, and he nods. 

Dr. Strange nods back. "Good, good. Now, we're going to do our visual exercises, and after that I will call Nurse Carter back here to escort you out. Am I understood?" Peter nods again. Strange's methods are very different from Dr. Banner's and Dr. Stark's, more hostile and, at times, violent, even, but if being strapped to a chair twelve hours a week means avoiding falling into the hands of Dr. Rogers, Dr. Barnes, or Dr. Pierce, so be it. 

Dr. Strange leads him from the room further into the hallway that Peter and Peggy were just in, opens the door at the end, and ushers Peter inside. A lone chair sits on the wall to the left, bolts holding it into the concrete floor and straps adorning the arms and raised back of it. There is no headpiece beyond the leather strap. A projector sits on a side table next to the chair, and on the right wall hands a bedsheet fashioned into a makeshift movie screen.

Peter chances a glance upwards at Dr. Strange's face, who is looking expectantly back at him. Peter gives a miniscule nod, accepting his fate yet again, and steps forward. He sits gingerly, arms resting on the arm rests, back straight, and head falling perfectly back onto the back of the chair between the two leather straps. The doctor does up the buckles along his forehead, down his arms, across his waist, and over his calves. Peter can still turn his head, so he does, and watches silently as Dr. Strange flicks on the projector, changing out the tapes for the one with Peter's name on it.

A blank white screen lights up the wall in front of him. Dr. Strange turns back to him, picking up the electrode-rimmed headpiece and placing it atop Peter's head. This one has lower voltage than the one they use on Wednesday evenings.

A towel is fitted between his teeth.

He closes his eyes and thinks a small prayer to himself, though he hasn't been to a house of god since he was a young boy.

He hears the doctor walk away, and soon the lights in the room are turned off, the only one being from the projector. A picture of a muscular man with nothing but a starched white towel across his hips lights the room up in a soft white glow, his image filling the wall Peter is stuck facing, followed by the gear on his head shocking him lightly. The light shocks still hurt, and he knows they only get worse from here. 

An hour later finds him panting heavily, the towel in his mouth damp with both spit and tears. A migraine is pounding in his head, the area between his temples feeling like he just took a bullet between the eyes and lived. He knows he looks a mess.

"Peter, I know it's painful, but these demons are necessary in purging your boyish wants of fraternizing with other men."

"You keep saying that." Peter mutters. "I didn't even want to... do that. With either of them."

Strange sighs, reaching into a bowel on the stand next to the projector that Peter hadn't seen before. He must have left at some point to retrieve it. Water swishes around the rim of the bowel as the doctor moves his hand. He pulls it out, shaking off the excess water, before moving to stand in front of Peter to take off the straps. He finally answers, "You've been saying that. You _keep_ saying that, but if some part of you hadn't wanted it, it wouldn't have happened." Peter doesn't understand, but he won't admit to it. Admitting to _that_ has yet to end well.

The doctor reaches back into the bowl once all the straps and headpieces are undone and hands him a cool wet rag to wipe his face and neck with. He does so quickly before being led back to the office, where Officer Rumlow is waiting.

"Where is Nurse Carter?" Strange asks, voice hardening considerably from the voice Peter has seen him use with nurses and patients. 

"Dr. Rogers needed her. Urgently, he said." Rumlow snorts. "You know how he is. I'll take the queer back to the café, don't worry, he hasn't missed breakfast yet." Peter thinks about the bagel Bucky probably hasn't saved for him. If nothing else, he knows one of his other friends here, Pepper, has probably thought of him and saved him half of hers. He's not sure how she got here, but he knows it has something to do with Dr. Stark. Peter feels better knowing he isn't the only one who fell under his care and came out worse than before. 

Rumlow takes Peter by the elbow, grip strong but not nearly as strong as the one he'd used on Bucky, and leads him down the central staircase, wooden with lime green and white tiles on the landing where it doubles back on itself, and then down the entrance hallway. They turn right, through the first common room (Peter waves hello to Ned and his nurse, Michelle), and Peter finds himself in the kitchen. Peter makes eye contact with Bucky across the room, seated at the table closest to the serving line, and Bucky noticeably freezes when his eyes land on Rumlow. 

Rumlow notices. He sighs, "What a fine piece of ass that one is. You're one of the lucky fags, aren't you, boy?" Peter is mildly disgusted. He is twenty five this August. Bucky has only just turned seventeen. Rumlow is easily in his forties, the hair at his temples noticeably gray. Peter can't bring himself to respond without coming to Bucky's defense. 

He doesn't have to. 

"Brock, let the kid go." A thunderous voice says from behind them. Peter and Rumlow both turn, and there, standing in the doorway, is the only guard Peter can tolerate, Thor. Peter doesn't know how the chain of command works, doesn't know if there even is one, but everyone listens to Thor. He towers over the rest of the room, dwarves even Dr. Rogers (who is unfairly tall and broad, _holy shit)_. Peter stumbles when Rumlow lets go of him, walks to the round, wooden, bolted in table with six chairs around it, and sits by Bucky. He chooses not to think about the high backs of these chairs and the straps that adorn them, eerily similar to the room he's just left. Bucky, Pepper, Betty, and Peter are the only ones sitting at the table.

It's almost half past ten in the morning, and the cafeteria is nearly empty. 

Rumlow is still in the doorway talking to Thor, and before Peter can even say hello to the people he calls friends, Rumlow's voice booms, "Peter Parker, table E!" and he storms out. 

A frazzled nun hurries out from the kitchen, a tray laden with grits, water, and his medicine in her hands. "You know what to do," Sister Darcy says as she shoves it onto the table before him before disappearing back behind the heavy wooden door.

Peter looks at the three other people at his table. "These aren't the ones I usually take," He says, holding up the cup. His usual's are two large white ones, as opposed to these two murky red and thee smaller white ones.

Betty shrugs. "Maybe the doctor changed your prescription." Peter doesn't even know why Betty is here. He suspects she's doing undercover work.

"Maybe the lord has granted you a fun time." Bucky says as he reaches over Pepper's seat to place a bagel on Peter's tray. Peter thanks him and takes the new pills in one dry swallow. 

"Maybe so." He responds, digging into his bagel and grits. The world goes white around him. 

Peter awakes with a jolt.


End file.
